To the dude from last summer and the summer before that

We have to stop meeting this way. I am putting a stop to it, against my addictive urges.

We are not going to meet tomorrow night.

I want to see you, but I can’t.

I never told you that I’m a sex and love addict in recovery, and that I have dissociative identity disorder. Previously, I told you that I have PTSD and a severe dissociative disorder. That was my way of downplaying my DID. I know I did this because DID is most definitely unsexy. It’s so not sexy that it’s unsexy.

I rationalized getting intimate with you too soon two summers ago because I liked you. I told myself it was okay because it wasn’t casual sex as casual sex is my bottom line behavior. But then we went our separate ways, and we’ve just had false starts since then.

Out of nowhere I hear from you the same day that I learn of a loss that I’m grappling with. I can’t trust myself to go out with you when I am feeling this way. I have to sit with this loss, feel it, and not try to numb it away by being with you.

I can see myself going to bed with you, and regretting it when I don’t hear from you for another 6 months.

I am no longer interested in playing out this script. I am throwing it away. I truly hope you have a good life.

Be well,



I have to get rid of the cacophony of noise in my head. Everyone is all stirred up, and I am out of options for calming everyone down. It’s times like this that I really wonder why I try so hard. I used to drink to get rid of the triggers. I had sex to excess, and that addiction helped me ignore the dissociation. Four years ago I gave up drinking and addictive sex. Now that I don’t have those crutches everything is horribly visible to me. I can hear and feel everything. In a way I am glad I did not have the knowledge of how it would be at the time I decided to quit. I may not have quit if I had known it would be like this.

The truth is that I am just holding on, and I am not even sure why. Why hold on? So that I can be in the same damn spot a year from now?

Someone inside of me wants to die, and I have to tell you that it becomes harder and harder to talk sense into them. I just numbly ignore the desire and go about my day, but it’s always there in the back of my head, gnawing and wanting to be done.

It is all a ruse, an act. I’m hardly sane. I just go through the motions, acting the part of normal human being. But, really, it is not real. What is real is in my head, and it is not for public consumption. It’s hardly for my own consumption.

I feel like I am out of options, out of choices. I see Doc in the morning. Whoop de doo. I’m not happy with him either.

I have to sleep, and I am not up for it. I am even annoying myself with how much of a prickly pear I am today.

God, give me a clue as to what I am supposed to be doing because I have no flipping idea.

once an addict, always an addict …

You had dinner with Jack tonight, and you’ve assessed that the two of you are better off as friends. In fact, the more time you spend with him the more confident you become in that assessment. There’s nothing obnoxious about him, you wouldn’t be friends with him if there was. It’s just that the two of you are incredibly different in terms of lifestyle, and what you want out of life.

However, today at dinner you found your mind starting to stray into that murky territory of attraction. But, big but here, you know that an addict is always an addict, especially a sex addict. You know, in that wise mind of yours, that you were starting to lust after him, simple as that.

You know all too well that if you had met Jack four years ago before you hit rock bottom with alcohol and sex that you would have devoured him and spit him out by now. He would only have lasted two weeks at the most in your life, and that was by design. You preferred it that way. You were in control, that is, until you weren’t in control at the very end.

He walks you to your car after dinner.You think about kissing him. Instead, you give him kale and beets from the farm share box in your car. Jack is a very good friend, and you’ve come to value friendship in recovery.